


The Pie Bandit

by sandean_cas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Apple Pie Life (Supernatural), Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Castiel Can Hear Longing (Supernatural), Castiel Makes Pie For Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Saps, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel is Bad at Feelings (Supernatural), Castiel is Loved (Supernatural), Castiel is Not Amused (Supernatural), Castiel is Not Oblivious (Supernatural), Castiel is Older Than Dean Winchester, Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Castiel is a Winchester (Supernatural), Castiel's First Kiss (Supernatural), Castiel's Nickname is Cass (Supernatural), Castiel's Tan Trenchcoat (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Does Not Get Pie, Dean Winchester Has Abandonment Issues, Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel, Dean Winchester Has a Heart, Dean Winchester Has a Sexuality Crisis, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Dean Winchester Loves Chick-Flick Moments, Dean Winchester Loves Chick-Flicks, Dean Winchester Loves Pie, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Not Amused, Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Dean Winchester is Saved, Dean Winchester is So Done, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eye Sex, Feels, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Oblivious Sam Winchester, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22618870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandean_cas/pseuds/sandean_cas
Summary: Dean’s eyes crack open in the dim lights and he feels a slight chill.Dim lights? He shakes himself awake. It’s supposed to be pitch black. His breath stalls in his throat. It’s Sam, eating his pie.Light shuffling comes from the fridge followed by a pause, as though Sam is just standing there in indecision.He finally hears the foil peel back from the baking dish. Dean winces as he hears the moaning noises coming from the fridge, almost immediately followed by the crumpling of paper. What’s he doing? Eating the whole damn pie?He did make about five or six this time, so Sam probably assumes that he won’t notice if one goes missing. But shit, a whole pie in one sitting? Dean is grudgingly respectful.More noises of appreciation come from behind the fridge door until, finally, he feels the chill begin to ebb and the lights begin to dim once more. Soft footfalls sound as Sam exits the room, stepping carefully over Dean’s trap, as though it wasn’t there at all.“Freeze! Pie bandit!” he shouts, holding up his spatula like a sword.Dean blinks in confusion as he sees Cass standing there, staring at him, confused. “Hello Dean?”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 161





	The Pie Bandit

  
“Sam!” Dean yells marching straight into his room. “If you want a slice of my damn pie you ask me like a normal person so I can laugh in your face and tell you to get your own.”

Sam frowns up at him and pins Dean with those cute puppy eyes that just aren’t working for him anymore.

“You know I don’t eat that stuff.” He replies calmly.

“So where did this piece of my pie go then?” he demands. “I _know_ how much I have left.”

“Just make more.” Sam waves a hand dismissively. “Maybe you ate it and forgot.”

“I _don’t_ forget the pie.” He hisses.

Dean’s taken to making his own pie now. And it tastes damn good if he doesn’t say so himself. After the first few tries it was a hundred times better than the store bought ones. And he could put as much or as little filling as he likes. And the whipped cream….

But now isn’t the time to drool. It’s time to get to the bottom of this.

He walks out of Sam’s room wordlessly. If Sam won’t be honest with him. Dean will just have to catch him in the act.

…

He bakes a fresh set of pies that evening and makes sure that the smell wafts all the way up to Sam’s room.

Then he waits, resting a pillow against the wall, right near the fridge.

The kitchen is dark and he’s placed all the pots and pans he can find right near the door. That way, even if he falls asleep, Sam would trip and cause a huge ruckus, waking him up. Then Dean would beat the crap out of him for eating his pie… or slam one right onto his face. He’ll see, depending on his mood.

…

Dean’s eyes crack open in the dim lights and he feels a slight chill.

Dim lights?

He shakes himself awake. It’s supposed to be pitch black. His breath stalls in his throat. It’s Sam.

Sam’s eating his pie.

A slow smile spreads across his face. _I got you now Sammy._

He hears a light shuffling in the fridge then a pause, as though Sam is just standing there in indecision.

Dean rubs his hands together… yes, let the guilt just eat him up.

He finally hears the foil peel back from the baking dish. Oh yea, Sam is about to be caught red handed.

Dean winces as he hears the moaning noises coming from the fridge, almost immediately followed by the crumpling of paper. What’s he doing? Eating the whole damn pie?

He _did_ make about five or six this time, so Sam probably assumes that he won’t notice if one goes missing. But shit, a whole pie in one sitting? Dean is grudgingly respectful. He knew he taught that kid something after all those years of babysitting.

More noises of appreciation come from behind the fridge door until, finally, he feels the chill begin to ebb and the lights begin to dim once more. Soft footfalls sound as Sam exits the room, stepping carefully over Dean’s trap, as though it wasn’t there at all.

He huffs, gathers his robe around him and flicks on the lights.

“Freeze! Pie bandit!” he shouts, holding up his spatula like a sword.

Dean blinks in confusion as he sees Cass standing there, staring at him, confused. “Hello Dean?”

He rolls his eyes. “Heya Cass.” He drops the spatula with a clang. “Did you happen to see Sam just walking by?”

Cass glances down the hallway and back to Dean, with a slow, “Noo.”

“Damnit.” He curses.

“What’s wrong?” Cass is immediately by his side, side-stepping the pots and pans as though they aren’t there.

“Nothing Cass.” He says dejectedly. He can’t believe that Sam just vanished without a trace. “I’m just going to eat some pie.”

Dean opens the fridge and sets one of his masterpieces in front of him. Cass swallows and glances at him. When he speaks… his voice is tentative. “Dean? Can I have some pie?”

“Since when do you eat?” he wonders but passes Cass the extra fork.

His friend shrugs. “This just makes me feel closer to you.”

“Oh.” Dean murmurs. “Then, I’m not stopping you.”

Why would he? This is Cass.

Dean and Cass munch away at the pie. Dean takes smaller spoonful’s than usual, subconsciously of course, wanting to prolong the experience of eating pie… knowing that it makes Cass feel closer to him.

“I’m happy you found me here.” Cass says, beaming at him. “I always enjoy the we spend together. More so when we can be alone and uninterrupted.”

“You’re talking about Sam right?” he smirks.

Cass gives a tiny smile.

Ah, Sam. His little brother. Who sneaks into their kitchen and eats his pie and interrupts Dean and Cass at the most pivotal of moments.

“I enjoy spending time with you too, Cass.”

…

Dean is so friggin’ tired of this. Sam keeps eating his pie! The towering monster just gobbles them up, almost as fast as Dean can make them and it just isn’t fair! He doesn’t even do anything to help Dean make them. Then, when Dean accuses him, he just vehemently denies everything. It’s sickening.

At this point, he just keeps making pies for Sam to find so that Dean can catch him with his hand in the pie filling - so to speak. But it just never happens. Sometimes, though, he finds Cass hovering nearby and they’d have a midnight snack and just chat.

One night, when Dean is more tired than anything, he hears Cass clear his throat in a deliberate manner.

“Sup Cass?”

“Your pie tastes different recently… less flavour.” He says.

“Oh?” Dean shakes his head. “Yeah, I just make them as fast as I can now, I don’t go the extra mile. My goal is to catch the pie bandit.”

“The pie bandit?” Cass echoes, his fork pausing just before his lips.

“Yea.” Dean says. “AKA Sam.” He Dean sighs loudly. “He keeps eating all my pies in the middle of the night and I just can’t seem to catch him.”

Cass is silent. Clearly thinking. Huh. Why didn’t Dean think of this before. It’s so obvious. Cass… master strategist, could have been helping him try to catch Sam all this time.

He sees Cass preparing to say something – his marvellous plan to catch Sam no doubt – and Dean leans closer.

“It was me.”

“Say what now?”

“It was me.” He repeats, with a wince, “I ate your pie.”

Dean laughs. “No. Buddy. Not now eating the pie. Sam usually comes in just … before… you?”

“Oh my God.” Dean whispers.

That’s why Cass could never find Sam afterwards. Because Sam wasn’t there to be found.

Because Cass was the one eating his pie.

“You’re the pie bandit.” He whispers in shock.

Cass ducks his head in shame. “Dean, I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“You said you ate the pie to feel closer to me.” He remembers the sound of someone stuffing their face with an entire pie that first night when he had his little stake out. Cass hadn’t tripped over the pots and pans because angels can see in the dark.

“You say they taste different now?” Dean says, glancing down at the mass before him. It doesn’t taste bad. But it definitely isn’t as good as the other ones.

“Dean…” Cass swallows. “You know angels can hear prayers right?”

“Of course.” Dean nods.

“Well… you know that we can also sense things… like longing.”

“Yes.” He says, carefully, not sure where Cass is going with this.

“When you made those pies… you put everything you had into it.” he says. “Your poured your heart and soul into it.”

“Because I love pie.”

Cass leans towards him. “And other things.” He says cryptically. “I could taste your love. Like it was baked into the pie. When I ate it, it felt like a prayer from you – one that I could only feel and not hear.”

“So… you’re saying that ‘made with love’ is an actual thing?” Dean tries to reason. “And that you kept eating my pies because love… tastes like chicken?”

Strangely, Dean doesn’t feel mad. He feels kind of honoured that Cass thinks that he takes so much pride in his work that he’s eager to devour an entire pie just to get a taste.

“No.” Cass seems taken aback. “It isn’t like chicken Dean.”

“Right. Sorry.” He says, holding up a hand.

Cass lays a hand on his arm. “I don’t think you understand me.” he says. “Dean. I love you. And this… eating your pies… it helps me feel close to you. And it reminds me that you love me too. It isn’t just that the pie is made with love Dean.” Cass’ expression is raw and open. “It’s that it’s made with _your_ love.”

“Oh.”

The only sound between them is the strangled noise that comes out of Dean’s throat.

“I’m not in love with you.” he blurts.

Immediately, he feels incredibly stupid. Cass literally just said that his pies are infused with love and act just like a prayer would.

Cass smiles wryly at him.

“Sorry.” Dean mumbles. “I just… didn’t think you knew. I didn’t think I knew either, to be honest.”

“I know.” Cass says, in that soft, understanding tone of voice. “It’s okay Dean.”

“You know I’m not good at saying stuff like this.” He mumbles. “I can’t tell you what you want to hear.” He whispers helplessly.

“Then don’t say it.” Cass says simply. “And I won’t hear it.” he lays a hand over Dean’s heart. Their faces are inches apart. Dean feels panic kicking in… but Cass doesn’t move further, he just smiles softly.

“Cass…”

“It’s okay Dean.” He assures. “You don’t have to say it… not out loud.” Cass gives him a pointed stare.

“What do you mean?”

Cass glances at the pie. “Don’t say ‘love’ just for me to hear. _Make_ love so that I can _feel.”_

“Right.” Dean stands on shaky legs. “Make love.” He repeats, heading for the flour.

“This is going to be the best damn pie you ever tasted.” He promises.

“I know.” Cass assures.

“And – and I’ll say it.” Dean says shakily. “I’ll say it someday.”

“I know Dean.” Cass wraps his arms around him. “But, right now? Just make me a pie.”

…

Sam yawns as he ambles out of bed.

He presses a hand to his throat and yawns, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. Hopefully he can just have a drink and fall asleep immediately.

He brushes the hair out of his eyes and flicks on the light.

The sight before stuns him. He’s … he’s scandalised.

There sits Cass, the sleeves of his trench-coat rolled all the way up to his elbows. In front of him, is one of Dean’s precious pies. Cass’ face hovers over the mutilated thing and his hands shovel mounds of pie into his mouth. Sauce is dripping past his fingers, all the way down to his wrist.

“You.” he glares.

Cass loos up, caught like a deer in the head lights.

All is still for a moment.

Then Sam breaks into a run, heading straight for Dean’s room.

“Cass ate your pie! Cass is the pie bandit!” he screams.

Dean opens the door with a sleepy face and glares at him.

“Did you hear what I just said?” Sam asks. He can’t wait to rub it in Dean’s face. “Cass is the pie bandit.”

Cass waves sheepishly, then licks the excess pie filling off his fingers.

Dean sighs, pressing two fingers to his head. “I know.” Is all he says.

Sam watches in amazement as Dean waves Cass over with two fingers. “Better get you cleaned up.” Dean mutters. “No way are you coming into my bed like that.”

Sam gapes at them in abject horror. “Excuse me?”

Cass pauses beside him. “Okay.” He says. “You are excused, Sam.”


End file.
